


Focus

by winternacht



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winternacht/pseuds/winternacht
Summary: Jon knows that Elias always watches.





	Focus

It must have been the monthlong absence of the watchful eyes that left Jon aware of their constant presence, even when he wasn’t recording statements or passing certain corridors in the Archives. Or else his powers were growing, and with them, he was growing closer to his “master” as well. And it had changed him in other little ways that worried him, like odd surges of pride and fulfilment after finishing a statement that went beyond the simple contentment with a job done.

But sometimes, he suspected it had nothing to do with the Beholding at all, because when the feeling was at its strongest, Jon was absolutely certain that Elias specifically was watching him. He could feel Elias’s eyes on him when he woke up and when he went to sleep. During the day, he often got too distracted by his mission, by the people around him to really pay attention, and he assumed the same applied to Elias. But every time he tried to relax and just take his mind off things, Elias was watching again.

At first, Jon tried to convince himself that it was supposed to be a temporary safety measure, just a way to avoid another kidnapping. He gritted his teeth through most of it, trying his best to keep the others out of it. There was no reason Elias needed to know their secrets as well, even though he probably already did. As a result, he started avoiding people again, while Elias was constantly on his mind, a lurking presence he just couldn’t ignore and found himself thinking about entirely too often.

But today, he felt Elias’s gaze linger even when he started undressing for a shower, just long enough that it felt purposeful rather than accidental. He had gotten so used to the sensation of being watched that he hadn’t even remembered until he had pushed his thumbs under the waistband of his pants. It had vanished again, but the realisation still left him feeling entirely too hot, and not just with anger. He had never taken as cold or quick a shower before.

Later, when Jon was lying in his bed, his exhausted mind finally drifting, his body started responding to vague thoughts of featherlight touches, the feeling of a warm body against his, and a quiet voice whispering sweet nothings into his ear. A small sigh escaped him, and he clutched the sheets tighter to himself.

Gradually, the fantasies got more defined. A strong grip on his shoulder held him in place while a gentle hand explored his torso, slowly dipping lower and lower but not yet reaching between his legs, leaving him to writhe with need. Jon could almost feel the soft skin of the man’s forearm beneath his fingertips as he reached for him, a silent plea for more. The voice deepened, became more familiar, and the words were clearer now, _I’m proud of you, Jon. I think you think you deserve something good for once._ And then he felt the familiar gaze on him again.

Jon’s eyes snapped open, the drowsiness evaporating. His head was spinning, and he tried to regain control of his thoughts, tried desperately to focus on anything else. But it was too late; he was already hard and aching to touch himself.   

Briefly, he considered just taking another cold shower. But the thought of walking to the bathroom with an obvious erection under Elias’s watchful eyes was not particularly enticing. Perhaps he should just hide under the blanket and wait for it to pass. But when he turned to his side and closed his eyes, the images came back with full force. And there was no denying anymore that it was Elias pushing him down onto the mattress with a tender firmness that had his pulse racing; that it was Elias’s lips that were brushing against the skin just beneath his ear, alternating welcome praise and kisses, and then that scrape of teeth…

Arousal was building inside Jon, but it quickly mingled with a bitter fury. He was convinced that Elias was somehow messing with his mind, making him see and feel things that would drive him straight into his arms, as if just a bit of seduction was enough to make him forget who Elias truly was and what he had done to him and the others.

Anger boiled through his veins, and the blanket was suddenly too heavy and hot and suffocating. For a brief moment, Jon considered just shoving it aside and getting himself off in full view of the prying eyes. If Elias wanted to watch so badly, he would fucking give him something to watch. But in the end, such an action would only please Elias, while at this point, he could still stop things. He should have stopped things. It would have been one way to resolve the situation in his favour, leaving Elias frustrated, with the broken promise of something he would never receive, and Jon could have relished the spitefulness of it.

But in the end, the need was too much, and he decided to just stay concealed under the sheets, even if it was naïve to assume that they fulfilled that purpose.

Without any further hesitation, he began stroking his cock roughly, too much friction and too much pressure too soon. It was the way he liked it when he was overwhelmed by everything around him and desperate for release. All the while, he glared at a spot on the ceiling, as if he could stare down Elias that way.

Still, he wondered if Elias was lying in his own bed, just like him, as he watched. But the image couldn’t quite take shape in his mind. It was much easier to picture him sitting at his desk, even at such a late hour, dressed impeccably as always, a cryptic smile on his lips, not a hint of the display affecting him apart from the way he leaned forward eagerly, responding to a desire Jon desperately tried to suppress.  

Jon threw his free arm over his eyes as he started thrusting violently into his hand, because he didn’t want Elias to be able to look him in the face when he came. He was afraid of what Elias might find in his expression. The sheets had slipped from his body, but it didn’t matter anymore.

* * *

It had to stop. Jon had to stop it, and he already had a plan. He had contacted his team during small windows of privacy, asking for information on Elias’s comings and goings, which Melanie and Basira had readily provided. Meanwhile, Tim and Martin had confirmed that they had not seen any books on Jon’s desk when they had found the body. And that no new Leitner books had been added to Artefact Storage.

The lack of eyes on him should have made Jon suspicious when he approached the Institute. And the second he stepped over the threshold, he knew something was wrong. An acute awareness spiked through him, that it wasn’t Elias’s office he should go to, but the tunnels.

The trap door was already open, and once Jon had passed through, he set off running, letting intuition guide his steps. Finally, Jon burst into the small room where Gertrude and Leitner had once disposed of the Key of Solomon, only to see Elias raise a lighter to the flimsy pamphlet he’d been after, the leather dust jacket discarded on the ground. _A Disappearance._

“Don’t!” Jon yelled. Elias started, thumb slipping off the ignition button, and the flame went out.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Elias said, and an odd smile crept onto his lips. “You knew.”

He tried to ignite the lighter again, but Jon had already bridged the distance and lunged at him. In his panicked focus on the pamphlet, he reached for it immediately, just as Elias tried to lift it out of reach.

And it tore.

Elias dropped his half immediately as though he’d been burnt, while Jon began leafing through the remainder in a hurry. All writing had vanished.

“Don’t read it!” Elias yelled and reached for scraps, but they were already falling apart in Jon’s hands, turning to papery dust that never hit the floor as it trickled through his fingers. He stared at it until it was all gone.

Elias’s sigh of relief cut through the silence. “Well, if I had known it would be that easy, I needn’t have bothered-“

He hardly resisted when Jon pushed him against the wall, hands twisting around the lapels of his suit jacket. “Why did you do that?”

“It should be obvious,” Elias said calmly. “I cannot allow you to hide from our Master.”

The laugh Jon let out was hollow and bitter.

“You think this is about _our master_? I don’t CARE about our master!” Jon slammed his hand onto the wall, next to Elias’s face, which was set hard now, lips pressed together tightly. “What I care about is that you – yes, _you_ – watch me all the time. And I can’t take it anymore! Do you even understand what it feels like to be watched all the time?”

“You’re asking me, of all people?” Elias asked. The tension vanished from his features, replaced by a mild smile. “I am very familiar with the joys of being watched, Jon.”

Jon scoffed. “ _Joys,_ you say? Then go ahead,” he said coldly. He took a step back, but kept his hand in place. “And I’ll watch.”

He had expected Elias to refuse his challenge, to laugh and brush him off. He had hoped he would have. Or perhaps he had hoped the opposite after all.

Jon didn’t flinch when Elias caressed his cheek, but he could feel his face grow hotter beneath the touch. And he couldn’t help following the hand with his eyes as it trailed slowly down his chest, before Elias let go of him and started unbuttoning his own suit jacket.

He did it slowly and deliberately, soon moving on to his belt, an elegant dance of skilled fingers across leather and buckle. Elias took his time, ostensibly relishing it, and Jon watched, mesmerised. He almost reached for Elias’s wrist when he opened the button on his trousers, suddenly anxious to stop him, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to keep Elias from opening his zipper and continuing to undress. The trousers slid down to reveal dark boxer briefs, the soft material straining to keep the hardness beneath contained. Jon held his breath while he watched Elias slowly push up his shirt and slide a hand down his hip, his thumb catching the waistband without interrupting the movement.

Instantly, Jon’s eyes darted up, and he allowed Elias’s gaze to trap him. He didn’t know if this was the safer choice. His arm was still resting just above Elias’s shoulder, and it occasionally brushed against him as Elias started to stroke himself, a rhythmic motion accompanied by the sound of skin against skin.

Jon refused to let any emotion show on his face, but it became more and more difficult to keep his expression impassive as he watched a hint of red creep onto Elias’s cheeks, as he listened to the soft exhalations between slightly parted lips.

“But Jon,” Elias eventually said in a raspy voice between increasingly laboured breaths. His tongue flicked across his lips, and Jon shivered. “You aren’t even looking.”

The effort it took him to tear himself away from Elias’s gaze was not enough to keep him from inhaling sharply at the sight – Elias’s fingers curled tightly around his swollen cock, pre-come dripping over his fingers. He opened his fist mid-stroke to let Jon see all of him, slowly palming the underside of his length, and Jon swallowed hard, trying to fight the sudden urge to drop to his knees and taste him, to feel him on his tongue.

He wanted to focus his attention on Elias’s face again, but he couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. Elias’s shoulder kept knocking into his arm as his movements sped up, and his breathing got louder, shallower, his chest visibly rising and falling under Jon’s gaze.

Finally, Jon dared to look up. Elias’s eyes burned with an intensity he had never seen, focused directly on him, taking in his every reaction, digging under his skin, penetrating his very core and caressing his soul. It was in that moment that Jon fully understood what Elias had meant. The joys of being watched, of being seen, of being brought into the light and taken apart and cherished. And he wondered if he made Elias feel the same way.

It hit him then that for all his attempts at challenging Elias, he had fallen for his game again. He had never been the watcher, only once again an object to be beheld. He could see Elias’s lips twitch, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

With a swift movement, he spun Elias around and pushed him against the wall, forcing out a sound between a gasp and a moan. It made Jon’s heart race. His fingers found their way under Elias’s shirt as he dug his fingers into his hips and pulled him closer, pressing himself up against him. Jon was unable to contain a groan, to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head at the spike of pleasure. He had hardly been aware of his own arousal.

One arm braced against the wall, Elias provided just the right amount of push-back for Jon to take his pleasure, furiously rutting against him. It was too much and not enough, the layers of Jon’s clothes separating them, dulling the sensation in a way that increased his desperation but kept him from losing himself entirely in the act. He couldn’t allow himself to.

Soon, Elias tensed beneath him, then his body went limp with a shuddering breath. Jon tightened his grip on Elias’s hips and held him in place, his movements not slowing as he followed Elias over the edge, and over lines he had never wanted to cross.

His knees buckled and he slumped against Elias, and for a while, all that could be heard was the sound of their breathing.

Once silence fell, Elias tried to turn around, but Jon pushed him firmly against the wall with his body. “Don’t,” he whispered. And Elias stood still.

Soon, they would have to leave, and Jon dreaded returning to the world above, where nothing yet so much had changed.

“Will you keep watching me?” Jon asked, unable to resist brushing his lips against the exposed skin above Elias’s collar.

“Of course,” Elias replied – a tender promise, a playful threat, a statement of fact.

Jon sighed; he didn’t know whether he felt resignation or relief.


End file.
